"What hurts you, blesses you. Darkness is your candle." — Rumi
Year 2 – Regulus (Age 8)
Regulus had made significant progress in his magic. The only problem was that his knowledge had outgrown his power. The magic he had access to was insufficient for the depth of knowledge he now possessed.
He had been gaining fundamental knowledge from other countries, which was an absolute boon. He discovered various cultures that utilised rituals and blessings to enhance their bodies, minds, and spirits using magic.
He knew he needed to improve his physical control over magic and had focused on it for the past year. He also learned a harsh truth: the body is not a "container" for magic, as described in some novels from his previous life.
When he asked Mr Jan, the physical training instructor, about this theory, the man had barked, "Boy! Who spouted this nonsense? You are training for the sole purpose of survival. How are you going to dodge spells if your body is weak?"
That was a disappointing moment for Regulus. He had read too many fanfictions in his last life and had automatically believed the body acted like a battery or a vessel. However, from his own observation, he realised later that the body acts more like a conductor for magic. So, his physical training was not in vain.
He also considered improving his mind with Occlumency and made significant progress. He was now a novice master of his own mind. He did not dare claim that no Legilimens could break in, but he had the confidence that he would notice anyone trying to peek.
His mental defence was not structured like a galaxy from Star Wars or a fortress. Instead, it was a practice of sorting his memories and locking them away in the deepest labyrinth of his mind, where he was the only person with the key.
Someone like Dumbledore might easily break through his defence, but only if they disregarded the risk that the boy might go mad from the intrusion. So, while his mind was not yet unbreakable, compared to most adults who dabbled in Occlumency, he was far superior.
He had made significant improvements in his senses, too. He could now accurately pinpoint animals in the forest within a radius of approximately half a kilometre. He had no measuring tools to test the distance accurately, but his senses covered that area roughly.
Through his research over the past year, Regulus concluded that the Soul is the most vital part of magic. That was why he struggled to control large amounts of power—his soul was still young. Alteration of the soul was far more complicated and riskier than tampering with the body. He surfed through books from different cultures and found a common consensus: the growth of the soul comes from the experience of living.
This explained why most of the older wizards in the Harry Potter world were much stronger than the younger ones, regardless of raw talent.
So, Regulus decided to simply live to his fullest, gaining knowledge along the way and storing it in his brain for later years.
He also started Legilimency training this year—using his roommate, Yaxley, as a test subject. Of course, this was without Yaxley's consent. Regulus's moral compass had shifted lower while living among the Blacks.
He found that he was too pragmatic to be like other protagonists from novels who would deliberately support Muggles or become the running dogs of Dumbledore. Reading Wizarding History regarding Muggles, he saw a pattern: almost every time wizards revealed themselves, they ended up either killed or experimented upon.
If he were to support Muggles and lose his legacy—losing the House of Black to someone like Sirius—then he would be no different than a fool.
His peers held the same thoughts regarding muggles.
One noteworthy point about his peerage was that Regulus was officially the strongest student among the first and second years. He could beat most of the third years and even some of the fourth years in a duel.
However, different countries offered different perks, so there were a few students he could not beat due to their obscure magical abilities. Almost all of those duels ended in a draw. He had only lost once, last year, to a ten-year-old kid from Japan. That boy had conjured a 'Tortoise Shield'—a family legacy for protection—and simply waited until Regulus exhausted himself before finishing him off.
That was weird magic, even for Regulus.
Because of his talent, the instructors at the school were not strict with him. He could get away with minor infractions like being late, though skipping classes was still forbidden.
From Year Two onwards, there were regular Duelling Classes and Spell Resistance Classes. The latter involved regularly undergoing the Cruciatus and Imperius curses to build tolerance. The instructor in charge of this class was Ms Roksana, the Spell Practice teacher.
She absolutely enjoyed the process. No one would have taken her for a sadist when first seeing her, but the students learned the true terror of her nature only in the second year.
…
Regulus POV
"Today, you will start with Spell Resistance Training. You will experience one minute of what it is like to be under the influence of the Imperius, and another minute for the Cruciatus, without any break in between. So, try to hold on," Ms Roksana said.
Her voice was cold and emotionless, but her eyes showed a hint of lighting up, like a spark.
"First goes Anders," she said, eyeing the bulkiest boy in the class.
I made way for him and used my senses to observe as she prepared the spell. Anders was tall and scary to look at, but he was a nice guy and kind, which meant he would likely not survive in our society. But since he was only eight, perhaps he might learn a thing or two about the real world here.
Anders did not hesitate. He walked to the middle of the room.
"I am read—"
Before he could even finish, a beautiful, cold voice sounded.
"Crucio."
The magic in the room turned a sickly light grey, gathering around Ms Roksana in a split second before blasting toward Anders in a thin, jagged line.
Anders, who hadn't even finished speaking, bit his tongue and started writhing on the floor like a fish out of water. She stopped after ten seconds or so, leaving the twitching boy gasping on the cold stone.
The students near me were sweating buckets.
"Oh, forgive me. I was supposed to start with the Imperius Curse. I got carried away," she said in an uninterested tone that did not sound like an apology at all.
"I promise to start with Imperius next time. That would not hurt at all," she added.
It did not sound like a promise. It sounded like a threat.
"So, who is going next?" she asked, using the same tone she had used to call Anders.
All the students turned toward me.
Why the hell are you looking at me? I cursed my peers in my mind.
Well, most of the time I was the first to respond to teachers, so they naturally looked to me in this situation to save them. Ms Roksana noticed their gaze and beckoned me to the centre.
She did not keep her promise at all.
She started with the Cruciatus Curse again.
The pain was instantaneous. It left me writhing like an earthworm that had been sprinkled with salt. I tried to control my reaction, to mentally wall off the pain, but I only lasted for eight seconds or so before I was reduced to twitching on the ground, my mind screaming.
Through the haze of pain, I heard Ms Roksana's voice calling the next student in that same, cold tone.
The Spell Resistance Class is officially the most hated class for the second year.